


Finite Quantity

by d_aia



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, During The Death Cure, Fix-It, M/M, POV Jorge, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-26 14:04:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13859277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/d_aia/pseuds/d_aia
Summary: “Newt has it, doesn’t he?”Jorge looks in the direction Newt and Thomas disappeared to for a moment, then turns to Brenda. “Yes,” he answers. Maybe in another world, he would have said, ‘Probably.’*Brenda realizes what's going on with Newt and it changes things.





	Finite Quantity

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the universe (and characters, locations, personal histories etc as are shown in it). This is the work of fanfiction.
> 
> Thanks & Acknowledgements: To Lex, who is always there for me--thank you!

“Newt has it, doesn’t he?”

Jorge looks in the direction Newt and Thomas disappeared to for a moment, then turns to Brenda. “Yes,” he answers. Maybe in another world, he would have said, ‘Probably.’

Brenda sighs, Frypan’s face falls, and Gally curses.  But then, just as Jorge is about to focus on the fact that something serious is about to go down in Lawrence’s camp, Brenda makes eye contact. Her face says it all. She doesn’t even need to squeeze the vial of serum around her neck, but she does it all the same.

Jorge wants to say, ‘no.’ He wants to tell her not to do it because there’s no telling when they’d get their hands on some again and she was going to need more. He wants to remind her that in their world, she has to do what’s best for her.  

But he can’t.

Jorge himself has thought more and more about values he abandoned when the world went to shit. He is constantly hounded by a warm, pleasant feeling in his belly when he makes the right choice or, at least, a choice that is about more than survival. The kids have given him precious things, starting with Brenda’s continued presence and the courage to stand for what he believes in. They never stopped.

But he can’t encourage her to do it, either, because they are still living in their world and he’d never forgive himself for it.

So, Jorge says, “It’s up to you.” Because this was never his choice to make.

*

Thomas and Newt come back, suspiciously red-eyed, and they seem ready to get back to work. Only there isn’t any going on right now. Frypan and Gally exchange glances, to Newt and Thomas’ confusion.

But Brenda gets their attention when she steps forward and puts the serum on the table in front of Newt. She looks up at him. “Good luck,” she says and she steps back.

Surprisingly, she’s not alone in putting some distance between her and the table. The first one is Gally, who leans back and quickly checks they are alone. Brenda wouldn’t have done it if they weren’t, but Jorge appreciates the care.

The second one is Newt and he flashes a panicked expression before he has control again. “I’ll take it after we’re done.”

“What?” Thomas asks.

Again with the glance exchange between Gally and Frypan, and Jorge has the distinct impression that there’s something there that he and Brenda aren’t aware of.

“We have work to do, Tommy,” Newt says flippantly.

Thomas crosses his arms. “No.”

“Come on,” Newt says. “It’s just a little and Brenda needs it more than me. I can wait.”

Thomas isn’t moved. “Why can’t you take this one and then you both can wait for another dose?”

“This one works for Brenda and it might not for me.” Newt shrugs. “Think about it—a guaranteed six months more for her or a day for me. It’s no competition.”

“You can’t know that,” Thomas says. He uncrosses his arms. “Mary said there was no way of telling.”

Newt sighs. “Brenda was bitten, I just got it. There’s your difference.”

“There _isn’t_ a difference,” Brenda says. “Newt, you don’t remember, but you must have been chosen by WCKD. I knew I wasn’t immune because anyone who was, they kept. And anyway, you can’t be less immune than someone who isn’t at all.” She is getting annoyed, Jorge can tell.

“We all had the predisposition,” Jorge says in a conciliatory tone. “It’s just that in some cases their bodies adapted. The difference between those in the Maze is whether they adapted more or less.”

“What are you talking about?” Gally asks.

Jorge takes a minute. The memories are not ones he revisits voluntarily because then he’d never be able to go on. He’s lost too much. But this is important, they deserve to know.

“Before everything happened, we were told that several natural disasters were going to occur but that they couldn’t pinpoint a location,” Jorge began. “They weren’t common, but we had them before so we thought we were ready for the aftermath. It was trickier than usual because other parts of the country or other neighboring countries, where we’d usually get help from, were in the same situation. As it turns out, it was nearly a global thing. But we may have recovered, eventually, if not for the radiation from the solar flares that caused the damage in the first place.”

“Wait,” Newt says. “Flares? As in _the Flare_? As in the disease that has everybody going mental? Are you saying _the sun_ caused this?”

Jorge nods and continues, “Earth got irradiated by direct exposure. Since our planet revolves around the Sun, it got us good.”

Frypan blinks as if he can’t process the information, and, while Gally spits a curse, both Thomas and Newt stare blankly. They’ve all automatically gotten close to one another as if this was another threat they’d rather face together. Come to think of it, they’d gotten closer to Jorge and Brenda, by default including them in the group.

The warm feeling makes, yet another, reappearance.

“People started getting sick seemingly without any reason and the doctors didn’t know why,” Jorge goes on. “Some simply got it, others were bitten or scratched by those infected, and before we knew it, it was everywhere. That’s when the first cranks appeared and the information, little as there was, got spotty. We knew two things for sure—we all had the Flare lurking in our bodies, but it wasn’t active in everybody. I didn’t know if they ever found out what switched it on, other than bites and scratches from the cranks.”

They listen in silence and, for a second, he remembers how it used to be when there were enough children to gather around for a story. Jorge breaths out. It’s a story he’d never want to tell.

“We found out that some of the children have adapted to it and that there might be a cure.” Jorge tries to steel himself for the next bit. “There was a rumor that they—we—they needed the children to be scared. I remember my _amigo_ , Manuel, saying, ‘What are going to do, hide behind furniture and jump out screaming?’” Jorge makes sure to make eye contact with everybody. “Later, I found out about the mazes. But by then, Manuel was gone, and I had other things on my mind.”

The silence that settles after is pressing and it makes Jorge’s thoughts go in forbidden places.

“I don’t want it,” Newt chokes out.

Thomas’ head snaps to Newt.

“I don’t want it. There shouldn’t be any cure. They found it by torturing us, by killing us one by one,” Newt says decisively. He points to the vial. “ _That_ is no cure.”

Gally and Frypan avert his eyes.

“Newt…” Thomas trails off, and Jorge believes he’s speechless. He knows the devastation written in Thomas’ expression. Jorge has felt it.   

“After what they did to us…” Newt clenches his teeth. “I don’t accept anything from them.”

Thomas shakes his head slowly, tears pooling in his eyes.

“Even if that means I die,” Newt finishes quietly.

Frypan and Gally look sad but not surprised.

Brenda looks at Jorge with sadness. He answers with a small shrug. What can they do? _Make_ him take it? That doesn’t feel at all right, but if it were Brenda, Jorge can’t say for sure that he wouldn’t try anyway. Brenda, though, hasn’t been used as a lab rat, terrorized into producing the serum like Newt has, so she had no reason not to take it.

“Newt,” Thomas calls softly. “Just, just give me a second.” Jorge can hear Thomas grinding his teeth. He blinks a couple of times, bites his lip, and generally looks like he’s thinking furiously. “Okay,” Thomas says. “In the last few months—”

“Tommy,” Newt sighs.

“Hear me out,” Thomas pleads.

Newt doesn’t like it, Jorge can see, but he nods.

“In the last few months, have I been any different?” Thomas asks. At Newt’s confused expression, Thomas goes on, “Have I more worried? Less? The same?”

“The same,” Newt answers. “But that’s because we’ve been trying to find Minho.”

“Yeah, okay, but before that—when we were trying to find the Right Arm,” Thomas starts counting things on his fingers. “Or when we reached the base and I kept digging. Or in the Maze.” An idea seems to occur to him, and he continues louder as if he has just made his point, “And you said I was only in the Maze for a few days! That’s nothing compared to you.”

Jorge can sort of get where Thomas is going with this, but in his hurry to convince, he misses Newt’s flinch. Gally looks like he wants to say something, but is stopped by Frypan who is watching Thomas carefully. And Jorge thinks he understands, especially when Thomas raises his chin slightly: Thomas isn’t going to force the serum on Newt, but this argument is very much gloves-off.

“You were always worried about something,” News says, hurt and folding into himself.

Thomas’ voice softens. “Right. I don’t remember how I used to be, but what I found out about myself is that worrying is pretty much what I do.” He smiles slightly. “How do you imagine I’d do without the Maze? In this world. With the Flare and the Cranks everywhere. Do you think I’ll be relaxed?”

“It’s not only about that, Tommy,” Newt says warningly.

“But it is,” Thomas snaps back. “I was asked, I agreed, I felt a sting and a bit of lightheadedness, and I gave my blood for a friend. That’s as good as it gets, now. I wanted Brenda to have it. And I want you to have it. Why doesn’t _that_ matter?” His eyes are full of tears.

Jorge knows that this is just Thomas being earnest and genuine and _Thomas_ , but Jorge can also see it’s working. Newt wants to say something, but he changes his mind and his mouth closes with a click. His eyes have softened.

“I get it.” Thomas sniffs and wipes his tears away with an uncaring swipe. “Or maybe I don’t, I don’t know, but I got the gist: you won’t accept a serum from WCKD. Okay, so why wouldn’t you accept one that’s voluntarily and painlessly made?”

“How many people did they drain before they reached the point where they could make it without their fancy equipment?” Newt asks softly.

Thomas blinks again, mouth left open, in a clear sign that he has better things to do than pay attention to his body. “None,” he says just as softly. “Think about it. When we got out of the Maze, what’s the first thing they did?”

“Get our blood,” Frypan says immediately. He has obviously seen an opportunity. “Do you think that’s how they came up with it?”

“Yeah,” Thomas says. “I mean they must’ve.”

“And when it wasn’t enough, they decided to what?” Newt looks disgusted and Jorge can’t blame him. “Decided to make some more so they stuck us in the Maze? You were in the Maze, Tommy, Mary knew that. She knew you.”

“She couldn’t have known too much since she told me it could be enough for anything from a day to a couple of months,” Brenda pipes up. “And being in the Maze doesn’t guarantee immunity.” She raises her eyebrows to Newt. “It was a game of chance and I was lucky.”

“Perhaps it was discovered by chance or mistake,” Jorge adds. “Lots of things were. Terrorizing kids may have been their first idea, but, _hermano,_ so could finding more of the… good things on those who’ve had it the hardest. There is no way to know.”

Looking frustrated, Newt grabs a hold of his hair. “Fine.” He lets go of the air in his lungs. “Fine, dammit.” He lifts his finger. “But nothing from WCKD.”

“Sure, Newt,” Thomas answers, acting like a puppy—all bright eyes and energy.

Newt huffs. “Give me.”

If Thomas had a tail, it would be blurry in his joy, but as things are he simply hands Newt the vial, with its easily injectable serum.

“You’re might feel a bit dizzy,” Brenda says.

Newt nods, grabs the serum, glares, and sticks in his arm. Meanwhile, Thomas, displaying jaw-dropping levels of lack of self-preservation, simply smiles encouragingly. Jorge would like to say he’s annoyed by the whole situation, but he can’t. He agrees with Brenda. She looks very amused.  

*

Later, when Teresa’s here and wondering how come Brenda’s still around, Newt thankfully interrupts her. Teresa is supposed to get the trackers out, but her line of questioning is starting to put Jorge on the edge. He’s reading incredulity in her tone and his hackles are up.

 “So,” Newt starts, uncharacteristic aggression in his tone. Did the serum not work? “Are you ready to produce it for everyone?” Perhaps he’s simply angry. Couldn’t blame him if that was the case, it’s been a rough couple of days and things aren’t going to calm down now.

“We don’t have the cure yet,” Teresa answers absently and her eyes keep finding a way to Brenda.

Jorge wants to step in front of her, but Brenda can handle herself.

“Sure you do,” Newt contradicts her dryly. “You just don’t have a permanent one.”

That gets Teresa’s attention and she turns towards Newt.

“People here sure could use it,” Gally adds.

“It can’t be mass-produced,” Teresa says, bewildered. She glances at Thomas for confirmation. “Thomas knows that; Mary told him.”

Thomas crosses his arms. “She did.”

“So what?” Newt rolls his eyes.

Teresa frowns. “I don’t understand.”

“You don’t?” Newt asks angrily. “Say there’s me—that you’re torturing in there and not Minho so I don’t lose my mind and attack you. I have the Flare and I refuse to put other people in WCKD’s greedy paws, even if it’s just an example.”

Teresa swallows, but is quick to say, “So you get it now.”

“No, I don’t,” Newt says.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Teresa says. “You have the Flare now, too. Don’t you want to survive?”

“Not at that cost,” Newt answers. “You can be sure I don’t when I know who pays it.”

Teresa straightens her back. “Thomas will understand. So will the others; Frypan, Gally, maybe Brenda and Jorge. They may understand already, and they definitely will in time.”

“They’ll be sad, they’ll grieve,” Newt admits. “But they know it’s my decision.”

Teresa shakes her head. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t, but it’s still my decision,” Newt says.

Teresa watches him with pity. “A cruel one at that.”

“Why is it cruel?” Newt asks.

“You don’t know what losing you will do to them,” Teresa says softly.

“As opposed to what?” Newt laughs, but it sounds like it hurts. “Continuing to torture Minho? Take more of those who have no problem living in this world, with this virus, and killing them for us? Us, who are doomed to have the Flare anyway? And I ask again, have you found a way to make it for everybody? The serum you have now, that’ll work for a time. Or…” He snorts bitterly. “Have you even been looking?” 

“You can’t mass-produce it, you can only harvest it,” Teresa says, frustrated. “And that’s not even the cure, it only works for—”

“For a few days, maybe,” Gally interrupts. “But that’s a few days that you in the city have that the people here don’t.”

Teresa rubs at her forehead, evidently upset. “There’s not enough for everyone. Even those in the city. We don’t hand it out; we keep it for research. They used to give it to key personnel, but that’s not happening anymore. We can’t afford to, too little is produced.”

“Produced,” Frypan whispers with a disbelieving blink.

“So use me as an example,” Newt says. He looks at Frypan as he speaks. “I…”

Frypan smiles slightly.  “Produce.”

“How much serum a day?” Newt continues. “A pint?”

“That’s too much,” Teresa says.

“I’m keeping it.” Newt raises his brows. “Say everybody needs 1ml. And say—”

“There’s no way,” Teresa cuts in. “You have no idea how little that is. It’s a drop. Make that ten milliliters, at the very least.”

Which is good, since there were more than ten in that vial.

“Ten, then,” Newt allows. “There are about one million people in that city.”

 “At least five,” Teresa says.

“One,” Newt disagrees. “And say I have your cure, so there’s no need to make people take it again. How long until everybody gets it? How many people will die before that? How long will I have until, I don’t know, something in me quits and I die? Does everybody get an equal shot?” His voice turns mocking. “Who decides who gets to be saved, Teresa?”

Teresa is frozen. She stilled the moment Newt started asking his questions. “No, no.” She shakes her head. “We… we could find more of you. Find something to produce the serum that we have in a lab, to buy us some time so that everybody—” Teresa is a cut off by a dry heave.

Jorge exchanges glances with Brenda. They’re on the same page. WCKD, despite saying that they’re for the future of mankind, has not done its share.

Teresa puts a trembling hand to her mouth, but she can’t stop talking although she stops speaking to any of them. “The Flare is air born now.”

Feeling a shiver down his spine, Jorge keeps calm.

“There’s not enough time,” Teresa continues. “Why didn’t we try harder to mass-produce? Why weren’t there any trials? Not for a cure, just a tie over. Why? So many people dead.”

“The time to save everyone has passed a long time ago,” Jorge says soberly. “It’s clear now that only a few people will make it. The question is: who will those people be?”

Teresa looks horrified. She looks around at them all, at Thomas, as if they’d have an explanation for it all. They don’t. Finally, she composes herself and extends a trembling hand to the scalpel.

“Brenda should have had another dose,” Teresa murmurs. “I’m telling you so that you know. With what we know so far, it’s impossible that she made it this long.” She stills her hand, picks up the instrument, and asks, “Who’s next?”

 *

A few hours later, Jorge watches as Thomas, Newt, Gally, and Minho make their way towards them. And right on time too because they can’t stay here anymore. It’s dangerous enough as it is.

“Lawrence wasn’t supposed to blow up the city,” Gally says as he climbs in.

“In a way, they made their bed,” Vince answers. “You can’t deny people access and expect them to take it. That goes double for this world.”

Gally looks at him then out at the city. “Albie had it right—we have to stick together.”

“I didn’t know him, but that seems right.” Vince pats Gally on the shoulder while signaling Jorge to start the plane.

“Wait!” Thomas shouts. “Jorge, wait!”

Jorge turns with a question on his lips, when he sees her: Teresa. She’s hidden at first by the smoke, but is becoming more and more clear. Jorge frowns and involuntarily he creates a chain reaction. Brenda sees him and looks in the same direction. She rapidly inhales, so Frypan, Newt, and Gally are the next to do it, followed by Vince and Minho, both significantly confused.

Minho gives a short growl when Teresa is obviously coming to the Berg.

But there’s something odd about Teresa’s arrival. In the first place, she appears to be bringing _a lot_ of things with her. She drags after her two large reinforced suitcases, the kind that has wheels, and one smaller messenger bag, which still looks huge on her frame. In the second, she doesn’t come aboard.

“I found the cure,” Teresa announces. “You ar—your blood contains the cure. It destroys the virus. Brenda isn’t infected anymore.”

Newt stops breathing.

“But the Flare is air born so there’s no saying that she didn’t get it again, or won't in the future, or that anybody else wouldn’t get infected. Plus, Newt has it, so I wrote down instructions on how to make it and gave you as many necessary resources I could get my hands on.” Teresa gestures to the bags. “You also have in there how you can obtain the components when the chemicals expire, how to sterilize the equipment, how to draw blood… Everything I could think of.”

That explains it.

“Tom,” Teresa continues uncertainly, “Newt was right: it’s not a feasible cure. There’s not enough for everyone. Because it’s your blood, you should decide what you do with it.”

Both Minho and Gally elbow Newt, who starts breathing again with a whoosh.

“But I can’t just watch. I’ve betrayed you, the only people I have left, and I _wish_ I could think of some way to show you that I didn’t do that on a whim.” Teresa takes a deep breath. “We’re evacuating and I’m going with them. WCKD has the resources, the labs… we’re too close to give up now. I have to try to find a way for everyone to get the cure.” She shudders at the sound of an explosion. “Everyone left.”

Teresa seems to take them all in. “I’m sorry.”

“Wait, Tere—”

But Thomas is interrupted by the sound of bullets. They dive for cover, but Jorge has time to see Janson. Damn that man! Jorge knew he had a reason for his extreme dislike.

Gally fires back and so does Minho, but it’s Newt and Thomas who hit Janson. He doesn’t die, but he can’t hold the gun anymore so that’s just as well. Soon enough, he’s distracted by the conquering mob.

“Teresa, take my blood,” Thomas is saying, but Jorge is more distracted by the elbow he hurt in his rush to duck.

“To—”

“You need it for your work and you need it for yourself,” Thomas cuts Teresa off, tone brokering no argument.

Jorge watches for a second as Teresa nods and gestures to the messenger bag. “The equipment is in there.” He passes it along, then tries to find out if there’s anything permanently wrong with his elbow.

Brenda should be around in case he can’t do something.

Or Vince. Huh. Vince is reliable too. Everybody in the Berg is.

That’s… a new and exciting prospect.

“Are you sure I can’t convince you to come with us?” Thomas asks, seemingly defeated.

That is Jorge’s cue to move to his seat.

“We even got Gally here, we’re pretty forgiving,” Thomas goes on, breathless.

Gally snorts, rubbing his jaw. “Not immediately,” he murmurs.

Jorge sees something small, metallic glittering in one of the suitcases’ black shell.

“No.” A smack is heard and Jorge turns his head, but it’s just Teresa kissing Thomas. Wait, what? “I’m not coming.” She smiles slightly. “Maybe we’ll see each other again.”

“Good luck,” Thomas says quietly.

Newt’s face is perfectly neutral, which makes Jorge believe that he wasn’t wholly off-mark, but Jorge has other things to worry about now. Like whatever this metallic thing is. If it’s a WCKD tracker, he’s going to chuck it straight—it’s a bullet.

Jorge grabs it. He turns. Feeling cold he traces back its trajectory. But he can’t because…

“Thomas!” Jorge shouts.

At the same time, Thomas pats his side. His hand comes off red. Teresa has disappeared once again in the smoke. He sways. Shouts come from the others as they try to get to Thomas before he falls. They almost don’t reach him in time.

But they do.

*

“How’s Thomas?” Jorge asks.

“He has an infection,” Vince answers with a frown. “Newt’s with him.”

*

Jorge sees Thomas upright a week after they’ve arrived.

Honestly, the fact that there was anywhere to arrive was a wonder, but they did it. They made themselves comfortable, left Thomas in the boat with Newt and then moved him into a tent, and they built most of what there was to build. The kids had more experience at doing it on their own than made sense, until Jorge reminded himself where most of them spent the last few years.

Everybody adapted and now they’re here.

Thomas is accompanied by Newt and Minho, and there’s a lack of stress and tension there that makes them almost unrecognizable.

It feels good, where they landed. Jorge feels like he can make a home here. It feels safe.

*

On a day in May, when they’re having dinner, Thomas leans over and kisses Newt. It’s a natural gesture, full of affection, and they must’ve done it hundreds of times to become that, but it’s their first in public. Everybody freezes for a second.

Thomas and Newt turn to them with narrowed eyes.

And the jeering starts.

Children.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Gally says, successfully managing to cut through the noise. “What was that with Teresa then?”

Thomas huffs and looks like he’s not going to answer, until his eyes land on Newt. His eyes don’t meet Thomas’ and his expression is blank. Thomas frowns.

“That was a goodbye kiss,” Thomas says with a shrug. “I didn’t initiate it; I was losing blood at the time and trying to figure out why donating blood made me feel that lightheaded and weak.”

Gally’s eyes fall to Thomas’ side. “I guess,” Gally says.

“Look, no matter our differences, I got that there was a reason for what she was doing,” Thomas says. “It wasn’t one I could agree with, but she was the same person who was there for me so many times. I’m glad I got to say goodbye.”

“Oh, Tommy.” Newt pulls Thomas into a kiss. “You’re all heart.”

And the jeering starts back up again.

Jorge feels old. Old and—On second thought, he doesn’t like the look Gally and Brenda just shared. Not at all. And Jorge realizes that it’s none of his business, but it’s hardly the first time he acted anyway. So he turns to Minho.

“How much do you like Gally?” Jorge asks.

Minho looks at Gally, sees Brenda, and snorts. “Not so much that I wouldn’t play a prank on him,” he offers.

“Good man, Minho.” Jorge smiles widely.

“You wouldn’t happen to plan on doing something stupid now, would you?” Vince asks.

Jorge’s first reaction at hearing Vince’s voice is one that makes Jorge think he _might’ve_ been a little hypocritical when calling others children.

And Vince isn’t done. “You aren’t going to do something to destroy the peace that—what am talking about?” He sighs. “Of course you are. Just don’t disturb people that aren’t as mischievous inclined as you two.”

“Like you, _amigo_?” Jorge challenges.

Vince smirks. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you want to comment (or just talk to me) you can do it here or on my [tumblr](http://e-alexandrescu.tumblr.com/).


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